On Honeymooning, Part One

The name of my blog is based off of a Kahlil Gibran quote from his poem, The Prophet. In the poem he speaks about many topics. And each chapter is titled, "On ___". On Love. On Friendship. On Eating and Drinking...

I found this to be an acceptable, and perhaps the easiest, means to approach my honeymoon blog posts. It's hard to summarize the most brilliant trip of your life. But here goes my attempt:

On Having Someone To Travel With:

I hate traveling alone. Especially Internationally.

But, even if your flight is 1.5 days late, your baggage gets lost even when you haven't flown anywhere yet, the airline gives you a whopping $6 voucher for food to say sorry, and all you want to do is scream...

It all seems okay when you are traveling with your husband. And you don't have to figure it all out by yourself. And you realize that you don't have to be in Italy to begin your honeymoon. Because you are together. And so, the where isn't as important.

[Not to mention you can: Sleep on them on the plane. Not feel bad about asking the person next to you to move so you can go to the bathroom. Not get skipped over by the beverage cart because you dozed off for 10 seconds. Not have to take all of your carry-on luggage into the bathroom with you at the airport. And always have someone to play games with, watch movies with, and snuggle with to make the flight pass quickly.]

On Speaking Italian Again:

The first night we were there I had my first true test: How much Italian had I lost over the past few years? We were hungry. My sweet new husband desperately needed the "Toilette," and we were in the middle of nowhere Italy trying to find our village (of 55 people) in the dark. Finally we came across a village that had exactly one store. And exactly no English in their vocabulary. Understanding how desperate our situation was, I put on my Italian stride and entered the small store. I walked up to the counter and said in my best Italian:

"I only speak a little Italian, but my new husband really needs a bathroom, and food. Please and thank-you."

The little lady behind the counter chuckled, directed Adam toward the bathroom, and continued to engage me in conversation (completely in Italian) while I waited. Afterward, she complimented me on my Italian, made me a much needed espresso, heated due panini for Adam, and sent us on our way.

I hardly wanted to speak a word of English after that. And I hardly did. And I'm still speaking in Italian even at home. What a precious gift to have such a beautiful language come right back to you.

On Hearing Your Dear Husband Begin to Speak Italian:

Before we left I tried to give him lessons. But it just didn't sink in. Until,

We arrived,

And I think the country, and all its many charms, swept him away.

And suddenly he was practicing the little Italian he knew and trying to learn more. By the time we left he was speaking as much as he could in Italian.

And it made my heart melt to hear that handsome sweet man speak the most beautiful language in the world.

More to come. It's good to be back my friends.


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